How can we die, when we live on in each other’s memories?
He is the poem inside me.
The poem that breathes
my love into life.
And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.
…you are all the books you read,
And all the words you speak,
You are your croaky morning voice,
And the smiles you try to hide,
You are the sweetness in your laughter,
And every tear you’ve cried,
You’re the songs you sing so loudly,
when you know you’re all alone,
You’re the places you’ve been to,
And the one you call home,
You’re the things that you believe in,
And the people that you love,
You’re the photos in your bedroom.
And the future you dream of,
You’re made of so much beauty,
But it seems you forgot,
When you decided that you were defined,
By all the things you’re not.
In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart.The Diary of a Young Girl
Half of me wants to smoke Marlboros with you and stain our skin with ash and ink and blood and sweat and kisses – everything that epitomises the lust that hangs in the air when we enter the same room. Half of me wants to devour you wholeheartedly, at once, until there is nothing left but the whisper of your existence. But the other half of me wants to write poems about you because every love song fits, and every great love story reminds me of us. It wants to dress up in a tiny black dress and feel you caress the dip of my spine whilst we slow dance to dulcet tones of our love’s journey. It wants to write you letters every day of the week so you know what my love for you sounds like; what true love really is.
Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water. And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply, and the night sky is no home, and you have cried yourself to sleep enough times that you are down to your last two percent, but nothing is infinite, not even loss.
You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day you are going to find yourself again.
لا أحد يعرف اللحظات الصغيرة التي ماتت فيها روحك، و لا أحد يعرف متى عادت و لا كيف عادت! و لا أحد يعرف لماذا تبتسم و أنت وحدك، كن قوياً لأجلك!
no one knows the tiny moments when your soul died, knows when it was revived or how, and no one knows why you smile when you’re alone. Be strong for you.